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I look at Darian. He’s stopped clapping and is staring at the unhealthy-looking senior citizen. Something about the man must upset him because Darian’s face darkens. Bringing his finger to his ear, he mouths something, and one of the men in black repeats the gesture.
Is he talking to the studio security, and if so, why?
Concealing my puzzlement, I glance at Kacie. She’s fanning herself with the envelope, clearly still recovering from my prediction.
I remain on my feet, waiting for the applause to cease. As honored as I am by the ovation, I hope it ends soon because my knees feel weak, and the odd, warm-energy sensation is back, but much stronger this time. It’s like I’m being flooded with it, and my pulse accelerates further, my breathing quickening uncontrollably.
What’s happening?
Is this the panic attack I’ve been trying to stave off?
My nails dig into my palms. If I didn’t keep them so short for dealing with cards, I’d be bleeding.
Another tsunami of oddly pleasant energy rushes into my body, making my extremities tingle.
My toes curl inside my high heels. Did I just orgasm in front of a hundred people?
The pleasure lasts only a moment, and as intensity builds, the sensation morphs into pain.
The bright studio lights turn into suns, and my vision blurs. I squeeze my eyes shut, my muscles locking up as I begin to shake uncontrollably.
Am I having a seizure? A stroke?
The intensity of the experience is now beyond pain. I’m going into shock, like the day I got my tongue pierced, only infinitely worse. It’s as though my whole body has turned into a nerve ending that someone zapped with a billion volts of electricity.
If I weren’t feeling the ground under my feet, I’d be convinced I’m levitating, with lightning striking me, Highlander style.
I bear the sensation for only a few short moments before something short-circuits in my brain and I collapse, my consciousness winking out.
